


Lost and Found

by 3ndoftheline



Series: Lost and Found [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7902235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3ndoftheline/pseuds/3ndoftheline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had met Bucky completely on accident - one that neither of us would ever forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was a little idea that popped into my head and it’s probably a super overused trope but it’s one of my favorites and you all will have to pry it from my cold, dead writer’s hands in order for me to ever stop writing or reading it. I was going to post this as one huge one shot but then I got carried away (surprise surprise) so I split it into two parts. But aside from that, I’m pretty sure none of this makes sense, I hope it does. As usual requests and feedback are always welcome on my blog (3ndoftheline) and part two should be posted within the next week :)

I had met Bucky completely on accident – one that neither of us would ever forget.

The way I had even gotten into the situation I was in was a total accident (you can see a pattern here, can’t you). I was walking home from the supermarket, my left hand held my plastic bag filled with lunchmeats and shrimp when I turned the corner and suddenly found myself dead in the center of a protest. More specifically, vegans loudly damning meat-lovers to the depths of hell as I stood frozen still with a bag of _meat_.

Just as I scrambled into action to try and get the hell away, some girl shoved a sign in my hand that read _There’s No Excuse for Animal Abuse_ as she bounded off, chanting with the crowd: “Down with the PETA! Save the Pigs!” I stared at the sign as suddenly the plastic bag became about twenty pounds and I clutched it tighter than ever. Now was _not_ the time to be clumsy.

Just as I was about to hand off the sign to someone else who could really fight for the cause, police cruisers screeched around the corners and police officers seemed to explode from every doorway and street alley. Chaos broke out and sent the entire crowd into a screaming pandemonium.

“Hey! You there!” I looked up and saw a police officer about twice my size stalk up to me as he jabbed his baton against my chest. “You’re coming with me.”

“Wait, _what_?” I suddenly dropped the sign as if it were made of fire. “I’m not a part of this, I swear. Look, see, I have meat right here.” I opened my plastic bag to him and the officer peered in and made a noise that sounded a lot like a grunt but I wasn’t about to say anything.

“Doesn’t matter,” he growled, “you’re still disturbing the peace.”

“For buying lunchmeat? Since when was that a crime?” I immediately knew I went too far when his nostrils flared as his enormous hands made a grab for me. I jerked back and did the one thing I could think of: run.

I took off in a sprint, dodging between throngs of protestors and flying tomatoes as they made contact with either the officer’s uniforms or the windows behind them. I needed to get out of there _stat_ or I’d end up with a criminal record. Which was _not_ how I wanted to spend my Tuesday afternoon.

My eyes tripped over then riveted on a guy sitting on a motorcycle. He revved his engine in the traffic that surrounded the chaotic street and without even thinking, I skidded to a stop in front of him.

“Can you drive this thing?” _Stupid question_ , I wanted to yell at myself, but I didn’t care. I had much, _much_ more important things on hand. Like not being put in handcuffs.

“What?” The guy responded, his voice muddled by the helmet.

“Can you get me out of here?” I reiterated as he flicked up his visor. Ice blue eyes bore into mine and I found myself slightly breathless. I was unsure if it was from the pure fear thrumming through my veins or how intense his gaze was. Either way, I was pretty sure I was about to have an asthma attack. Especially when I looked behind me and saw four police officers advancing towards me as they shoved protestors out of the way.

“ _What_?” The guy raised his eyebrows in surprise as I bounced on the balls of my feet.

“Dude, listen, I will _literally_ give you my firstborn, just get me the fuck out of here.” He followed my gaze but didn’t seem particularly worried. Of course, that had me even _more_ worried.

After what felt like years, he turned and pointed to the helmet that rested on the back of the motorcycle. “Put it on.” I didn’t even stop to question him or anything as I fumbled for the helmet and jammed it over my head. I wanted to make a snarky comment about how he was demanding safety when I was about to get tackled by four fully trained police officers but considering the fact that he was risking his life too, I didn’t really have much room to be critical.

I swung my leg over the leather seat of the motorcycle as he tilted his head back slightly. “Where do you want to go?” He asked as he revved his engine again. They were a few feet away. A few more seconds and I’d be jammed into the back of a police cruiser with five other people I didn’t know.

“Doesn’t matter. Just drive, God, just fucking _drive_!” I yelled as panic made my voice almost hysteric.

Just as he let go of the brake and the throttle roared, I felt hands grasp the back of my jacket. The sickening tear of fabric was drowned out by the engine growling as we suddenly tore away from the street. I was nearly thrown off of the motorcycle until the guy shot his hand out and grabbed my arm and hauled me back onto the seat. Immediately I wrapped my arms around his waist like vices as the city tore past us, a dizzying sight of flashing buildings and twisting streets.

I wasn’t sure when I shut my eyes but it was only when I felt a light tap on my wrist did I snap them open and realized we had stopped. I yanked off the helmet and was able to just stagger off of the motorcycle before I threw up everything that was in my stomach as my head spun at a dizzying rate. It was like I was suffering from a sudden and terrible hangover.

Once I was done I rested my hands on my knees and panted heavily, having completely forgotten about the complete stranger that I had basically forced to become my getaway driver. “So, you’re a vegan?”

I snorted and the action almost made me throw up again. “Wrong place, wrong time,” I muttered as sweat jeweled my skin.

“So you’re telling me that you didn’t mean to be at a vegan protest march? That you just accidentally joined one?”

I turned my head and glared at him, still masked by his helmet. “What can I say, I have a special talent,” I snapped as I straightened slowly and immediately wanted to curl into a ball. I struggled to keep my eyes open as I took in our surroundings. He had parked behind a brick building and the long alley that we were in was overflowing with garbage and filth. The motorcycle still hummed as heat radiated off of the engine like sun rays. “God, where are we?” I asked as my eyes flitted around and I nearly screamed when I saw a rat nibbling on some trash two feet before me.

“Some place safe.” I raised an eyebrow as I glared suspiciously at the dark shadows that crowded the corners of the walls. “What? You didn’t specify where you wanted to go, so this is what you got.”

“I didn’t say anything!” I protested loudly. I was about to spout off another comment when the man took off his helmet and the fight momentarily drained from me.

He was a God. He had to be. There was no way someone looked so good so _naturally_. His brown hair was long and tousled from the helmet but he didn’t seem to struggle with helmet hair whatsoever. His eyes were the same, sapphire blue and light stubble dusted along the strong lines of his jaw and shadowed the edge of his cheekbones as his thin, pink lips were pulled into a tight frown. His body was built like an Adonis but the way he sat on the motorcycle, how his fingers flexed and the tendons moved beneath the taught skin, he was lithe and could move quickly despite his broad build.

“I can see it, in your face,” he jabbed a finger at my face and his beautiful features twisted into a deep scowl that made me wince without even thinking about it.

“See _what_?” I frowned as I struggled to stand straight. “You know what, don’t even answer that. I don’t even care. I’m just gonna–” I pointed to the break in the wall of brick and just as I took the first step, my sneakers sank into a puddle of pure sludge and if I had anything in my stomach I swore I would’ve hurled it all up again. “ _God_ what the hell was that?”

“You know, most people say thank you when someone saves their life,” the man mentioned as he watched me. While his eyes had seemed intense before, it was nothing compared to right there in that moment. His irises were like chips of ice as every muscle in him seemed to be tense. Suddenly, he didn’t seem so attractive to me. He seemed angry and ready to punch the lights out of me once he got the chance.

“Thanks,” I muttered as I screwed my eyes shut and forced myself not to think about how I was standing in a cesspool. _Flowers, cookies, candy, roses_ I repeated to myself in an attempt to mask the smell that threatened to turn my stomach inside out.

His phone rang and he took one look at the screen and the scowl on his face became deeper, harder. He glanced at me, his eyes flickered over me and with a resigned sigh he pocketed his phone. “I have to go. Come on.” He nodded to the back of the bike and he almost threw up again.

“Uh, you know what, its fine. I’ll walk. Don’t want to cause you anymore trouble.” I eyed the bike warily as I stood up straight. I felt like I was going to pass out but that was beside the point.

“Don’t be–”

“I’m close to my place. It’s fine,” I reiterated. I was being stubborn, I knew it. I had no idea where I was and no idea how to get the hell out of where I was. But this man already seemed frustrated enough, I definitely wasn't about to cause him any more trouble. And I _definitely_ didn’t want to empty my stomach again.

He narrowed his eyes at me before he shook his head and leveled me with an angry stare. “Fine,” he snapped. He shook his head before he roughly placed the helmet onto his head. His eyes glanced at me one more time before he flicked the visor down and kicked the bike to life.

He sped off, leaving flecks of mud and garbage speckled against the gray brick wall, leaving me behind in the mud.

*****

A month passed since the vegan protest and the unfortunate events that followed. I went on with my life, I went to school, I went to work, I went home, and surprisingly enough, the man on the motorcycle wasn't the only thing I thought about.

He was always a fleeting thought, for a few seconds I’d think about his ridiculous body and sharp jaw and piercing eyes, but then I’d remember his cold voice and annoyed stares and immediately my mind would turn to more pleasant things. Like food. And my dog.

Life went on as did I and nothing else nearly as exciting happened. I was pretty sure the vegan protest would be the highlight of my mundane life which was pretty sad and pathetic if you thought about it. But I tried not to think about it. When I did, I would think about other stuff. Like food. Or my dog.

“What is the purpose of history?” My history professor, a short, wiry man about thirty years my senior by the name of Professor Richard M. Montgomery. I called him Professor Monty. Other kids called him Professor Dick.

“To teach us about what could happen in the future?” A kid called out timidly. Professor Monty’s eyes widened as he let out a shocked gasp.

“Exactly! History is like a blueprint. Those of us living in the present can use history as a way to predict the future. We _learn_ from history because we have legitimate documented proof that those certain events occurred. They give us _insight_ into what our decisions could lead to.” He sighed and I rolled my eyes. This guy was dramatic; in every sense of the word. “Now, history is a teacher. And we, in this classroom, are the students.”

“But isn’t living in the past dangerous?” A girl asked from the back of the lecture hall. Professor Monty laughed like she just delivered the punchline to his favorite joke.

“My dear, _living_ is dangerous. Whether we live in the past, present or future, it’s never safe.” He smiled so wide I thought he would split in two. “With that said, history isn’t just in the past. It’s living, it’s with us. Right now, we are creating our own history.”

A few kids shuffled in our seats. While Professor Monty was certifiably psycho, he had a way with words. This was one of those moments where everyone sat back and had a little _whoa, this crazy history guy really fucks you up_. Professor Monty puffed his chest out with pride at our shock before he started up again.

“And I have a perfect example of history that is living, today, right now, among us.” Professor Monty fiddled with his bowtie and slicked back his already greased hair as he cleared his throat nervously. I wondered if it was some hot history author that was about to come in and he’d start bumbling about like he did last time. “I present to you, Captain America and his best friend, James Buchanan Barnes!”

The entire class rioted. But quietly, all to ourselves, and we stayed in our seats because we were _adults_.

The door opened and in walked in a drop dead _gorgeous_ man who put California surfers to shame. Sandy blonde hair and a thin sweater that sat too tight on his upper body. His whole stance rang with confidence and pride and whatever else the United States stood for. Captain America was gorgeous, and every guy and girl in the room couldn’t deny that.

My eyes flicked over to the man who walked in behind him and I nearly choked on my spit. It was _him_. The man on the motorcycle. He was there, in the flesh, walking into my history class. He was _real_.

His ice blue eyes swept over the classroom with a bored expression and I immediately tore my eyes from him to Captain America where he was shaking Professor Monty’s hand. I kept my eyes trained on the blonde even though I really didn’t have much interest in him. Well, I did, because he was _Captain America_ but, you know what I meant.

I propped my chin on my hand as Professor Monty spoke some words to the man on the motorcycle – well, I guess his name was James now – and Captain America before he scurried off to the side. Captain America stood in the middle of the floor while James leaned against Professor Monty’s desk and his whole stance radiated _don’t fucking talk to me_.

And it worked. Captain America or Steve as he wanted us to call him, fielded most of the questions and answered them with ease. I took plenty of notes and surprisingly actually learned a lot from him. He had lived through a lot and he certainly had done a lot of catching up. He answered every question easily, even the stupid ones or the more difficult ones.

“Uh, I have a question for Mr. Barnes,” one kid finally announced. Steve shuffled and glanced back at James who was examining the sarcophagus filled with tic-tacs on Professor Monty’s desk. He glanced up and nodded as the kid shuffled his papers. “I was wondering how you got all of your memories back. Did the Scarlet Witch help you? Or Tony Stark?”

James shrugged. “I didn’t.” It was obvious that the kid had more questions, but it was even more obvious that James wasn’t about to answer any more. I had to fight a smile off my face as I focused my gaze on my notebook before me.

But Professor Monty was a firm believer in fairness, whether any of us believed in it or not. And he absolutely could not deal with the fact that some of us weren’t asking questions or that most of the questions weren’t being asked to James.

“Charlotte,” I winced when my full name was called. Professor Monty also didn’t believe in nicknames, which was why we were forced to call him Professor Richard M. Montgomery to his face. “Why don’t you ask a question to Mr. Barnes, both of you have been exceptionally quiet today?”

I sighed and tapped my pencil and glanced down at my notebook to see what questions I had written down for James. _Why are you such a dick? Why don’t you put your hair in a bun – you’d look so hot? How do you feel about the Six Million Dollar Man and can you relate?_ All questions that I couldn’t really ask. So, I pulled one out of my ass.

“What’s your favorite kind of cereal?” The whole class laughed but what was most surprising was that James laughed first. It was the first time I’d seen him smile _ever_ (not like I saw him constantly) but it lit up his whole face and holy hell he should’ve done it more often.

“Depends on the morning,” he answered and his sapphire eyes sparkled as he stared at me. My whole body became flushed with a rosy color and I tried to swallow my heart that had jumped into my throat.

“While I’m sure that question was very insightful, why don’t you ask him something that is a little bit more relevant?” Professor Monty eyed me and his look said _enough_. With a sigh, I shrugged and racked my brain for something.

“Okay, uh, the war that is currently being waged in the Middle East, do you think it could become World War Three? And since all of us are living on that line where the line could shift towards global conflict or a localized battle, I feel like it’s similar to you guys growing up in the thirties so what advice, I guess, can you give us?” The question didn’t make sense and it was run on but James tilted his head and there was another hint of a smile the ghosted his lips.

“Expect the unexpected,” was all he said. But the look he gave me spoke volumes, and it had _nothing_ to do with my question. My whole body was on fire and I didn’t even hear Professor Monty clear his throat and call on someone else. Actually, I didn’t even hear what anyone else said, his words were all I heard in my head. _Expect the unexpected_. Goddammit, this guy had barely spoken a full paragraph to me and I was already ready to combust.

When Professor Monty finally called the end of class, pretty much everyone ran up to the front of the room to bombard both Steve and James with thousands of questions. I knew they’d be preoccupied for a while, so I went the complete opposite direction and made a beeline for the exit as fast as I could.

By the time I got outside, I was practically panting. I had no idea what was wrong with me. Literally, James had just said: “Expect the unexpected.” But a part of me _knew_ he wasn’t talking about my question. Or maybe he was and I was just reading way too into it. Which was totally something I would do.

I shook my head and shoved my notebook into my bag as I shouldered my way through the throngs of people on the sidewalk and made my way to the dining hall. I grabbed my usual chicken caesar wrap and french fries and found a table miraculously by the left wall of windows that overlooked the athletic fields. The sky was bright blue and the leaves were burning gold and red as the autumn breeze created tornadoes of fallen leaves over the pavement paths.

I was looking over my notes from Professor Monty’s lecture and laughing at my doodles when I heard the chair in front of me scrape against the floor.

“You’re a hard one to find, y’know that?”

I snapped my gaze up and saw _him_ , James, sitting down in front of me. His body was way too big for the chair and I was in mid-chew so I was pretty sure I had a piece of lettuce dangling from my mouth. Totally flattering. “Didn’t know you were looking,” I mumbled once I regained my bearings and swallowed the food in my mouth.

James raised an eyebrow. His left hand was encased in a glove and his right hand wrapped protectively around the covered hand. His knuckles were peppered with cuts and bruises and I couldn’t help but frown when I saw the damage inflicted over his tawny skin.

“I looked for you once the lecture ended. Figured I could ask a few questions of my own.” He was smiling, looking like a completely different person than he did a month ago. I swallowed and tried to regulate my heartbeat but I failed. Miserably.

“There’s not much to tell,” I admitted as I took another bit from my wrap.

“I find that hard to believe.” His voice scraped over his words and I couldn’t help the shiver that danced down my spine. I hoped my cardigan concealed it. I doubted it did.

I shrugged and then set down my food. “Alright then, ask away Sergeant.”

Something flashed in his eyes when I said _Sergeant_. I wasn't sure what it was and I didn’t have a chance to ask before he spoke. “What’s _your_ favorite cereal?”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Lucky Charms. I love sugar.” I popped a french fry in my mouth as he nodded. “Now, can I ask you something?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ as he leaned back. “I’ve still got two more.” I scowled before nodding reluctantly. “Why a history major?”

“Why not?” I countered hotly, a knee-jerk reaction I suppose. James didn’t back down as he leveled my narrowed gaze with an unwavering one. I sighed before I dropped the fry in my hand. I was about to spin off the same spiel I gave everyone when they asked _why a history major? You could use your intelligence for something so much more useful, like biology or nursing!_ But I had a feeling Bucky was looking for something deeper, not the superficial shit I spewed off to get people off my back. “I love history. I love how intricate it is, I love how it’s a peephole into life before us. People can have such tunnel vision when it comes to our lives and our generation and history shows that we are great, but there were greater stuff before us. I love the discussions it ensues, I love how even though we know history and have studied it constantly, we are still learning stuff every day and even then, history is still repeating itself without us even realizing. History may be in the past, but it’s not actually concrete, it doesn’t stay there. It’s constantly around us, whether we accept it or not.”

Bucky didn’t say a word for a while and I started getting embarrassed when he finally said, “You’re doing what you love.” I looked up at him, into those pools of blue and nodded mutely. And I saw a spark of jealousy in his eyes but it faded so quickly I wondered if I had imagined it.

“Yeah, um, yeah. I am,” I stuttered and cleared my throat. Bucky smiled again, soft and barely there but the effect it had on me was anything but faint.

“My last question,” he murmured, his eyes suddenly intense, “can I see your notebook?”

I froze as I remembered the questions in my notebook and had a horrible scenario in my head of him _reading_ those questions. “Uh–”

Before I could say no, he pulled the notebook across the table and held it in his hands, far enough so that even when I lunged for it, I didn’t have a chance to get it back. Also, he was a super-soldier who could kill me with his pinky seven different ways, I never stood a chance.

His facial expression didn’t change but I knew the _second_ when he read my questions scribbled within the margins of the notebook paper. His eyebrows drew together then apart and his jaw ticked beneath the scruff and I actually wanted to melt into the ground and never be seen again.

“I’ve never heard of Six Million Dollar Man, so I can’t answer that one for you,” he murmured before he tilted his head inquisitively.

“Listen I–”

“I don’t know what a man-bun is. A lot of people asked me that today in your class; I think I’ll have to ask Natasha.”

“Oh, well, that–”

“And living in the world that I do, being kind of a dick is the only way I survive.” He looked at me and his face was serious, his eyes locked me in my seat as he leaned forward. He smelled of mint and hints of citrus that I assumed were from his cologne. “But if I offended you, or hurt your feelings, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry Charlotte, I really am.”

I hated my full name. I always have. But right then and there, the way James spoke it, it sounded like warm honey and buttery sunshine. “Charlie,” I found myself saying without even realizing it. “Call me Charlie, everyone else does.”

A flicker of a smile passed over his lips. “Well, I’m sorry Charlie. I really am.”

“Uh, it’s fine.” I said. At least, that’s what I thought I said. Honestly, I was too busy trying to not die over how he said my name. The name I actually went by. It was like when you meet your favorite singer and they say your name for the first time and you feel like you died and went to heaven? That was sort of how I felt at that moment.

“Let me make it up to you?” He seemed nervous suddenly, which made me forget my hyperventilating self as I became all too curious. “Dinner, tonight?” Now he looked like the one who wanted to melt into the floor and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t you hate me?” I was curious. He certainly hadn’t seemed too fond of me over a month ago, now he wanted to take me to dinner.

“Hate you?” James frowned in confusion. “How could I hate you?”

I nodded and didn’t trust myself to speak so I focused on putting my notebook away and gathering my trash. Finally, when my head was back on straight, I looked at James and was almost floored by the increasingly desperate look on his face at my silence. From that moment on, I didn’t question it anymore. He wanted this, as did I.

“Pick me up at seven. Crowley Hall, I’ll meet you out front,” I told him as I stood up.

His smile was all I could think about for the rest of the day.


	2. For Better or for Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Were all love stories supposed to be this complicated?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the long ago promised part two to lost and found :-) i'm sorry about the wait, life gets in the way and i'm very grateful for the infinite amount of patience you all seem to have for me. anyways, i hope you all enjoy this and there may possibly be a chance of a part three? or an epilogue? I'm not sure so please let me know if that is something you would be interested in :) also, thank you for every comment and kudos you leave on my works. they mean so much to me. thank you xx

Bucky’s smile was all I saw for two years, seven months and eighteen days.

He had become Bucky after the first date, his first name was used when I was annoyed with him or teasing him, same as mine was to him. He became a permanent fixture four months after our first date, seemingly worming his way into my life and made me forget what life was like before him.

I was happy. He made me happy, he made my mundane life suddenly burst like a kaleidoscope of laughter and colors and _happiness_. He was everywhere, I saw him in the simplest of things. I saw the silver of his arm in the moon. I saw his smile in ice cream and chocolate and everything sweet, I saw the mahogany of his hair in crowded park benches and blooming trees.

Being with Bucky was easy. It was so easy I didn’t even have to think about it. He was there when I needed him to be there but understood when I wanted space more than anyone else I had ever met. He understood when I was so stressed that sometimes I’d need a hug but most times he’d just make sure I was properly fed and slept well and in a few days’ time I’d crawl out of my shell and curl into his lap where he’d kiss away my mumbled apologies.

The only time it got hard was at night when I’d wake up to him mumbling and trembling. He didn’t thrash or punch or kick. It was like he was paralyzed with terror until I was able to coax him awake and he’d bolt up, panting and gasping for air as he'd look at me with wide, empty eyes. He’d pull me in close and I’d hold his huge body against mine until his erratic breathing calmed. I never asked about his nightmares. The few times I did it led to horrible fights that left both of us miserable and hurt.

So I learned not to ask and we fell into a pattern. As long as I didn’t ask or pressure him, he'd tell me when he was ready. Which was rare, he never told me anything about his nightmares until one night.

He woke up shaking and drenched in sweat and I opened my arms and let him curl into me. His arms held me impossibly close and his breath was quick against my collarbone. “They take you from me,” he whispered and I had to strain to hear him. “Every night. And the make me watch as you…as–”

“Sh,” I hushed him quickly as my heart tore in two. I didn’t know who _they_ were, I assumed it was Hydra or whoever tore his life apart and left him to mend the broken pieces. And to know they were still affecting him like this, it made me want to cry for him and want to carry his pain all at the same time. “I love you. No one is ever going to take me away, I promise.” He calmed down faster than he did most nights, like a piece of his burden had melted away. But I was wrong. They never did take me away, Bucky’s demons.

Instead, they took him from me.

He left. Without a word, without a text, without a call. I came home from class one day and all of his stuff was gone. It was like he had never even been there. The only slightest inclination that I had left of him was the pendant of a rose that hung around my neck. Gifted to me on our two year, it was Bucky’s way of saying he loved me without ever saying it. He liked to call me petal; it was his nickname for me. I didn’t know why, he never told me and whenever I asked he got oddly silent and kissed me until I was breathless.

There were nights where I’d grip the rose so hard the shape would be bruised in palm for days until I furiously tried to rub it away, angry at him and myself.

For a long time, I thought he was dead. Perhaps, he had gone on a mission and never returned. But Steve never visited, no one did and I was pretty sure I was supposed to get some sort of notification if the love of my life suddenly fell off the face of this Earth.

But I got nothing and then in a newspaper one day, I saw him receiving the Medal of Honor alongside Steve, his lips pulled into a smile.

And I was angry. I wasn't sad anymore. All the tears I shed, all the times I screamed into my pillow over a broken heart were gone. The gaping hole in my chest closed up and hardened over. I became bitter. I was angry at him for just leaving, leaving me by myself with no explanation, _nothing_. I was furious that he didn’t have the audacity to try and tell me something was wrong, to talk to me. He didn’t even try. He just…left.

So I stopped mourning over Bucky Barnes. Every time I saw a picture of him smiling and with Steve, or Sam, it drove a nail through my heart but I didn’t let myself dwell in the pain. I moved on. I burned every picture we had together and deleted every trace of him from my life. He had moved on, he was living his life, why the hell couldn’t I?

I graduated university and promptly threw myself into graduate school until I got my masters. My research propelled me into a doctorate at the age of twenty-four. At the ceremony my picture was printed in the newspaper for being one of the youngest holders of doctorate in my field. I got a small column, but it was front page and my smiling face was there. Even in the picture, you could make out the rose pendant over my white gown, the one thing of Bucky I could never get rid of.

I walked home from work one day, whistling as I thought about the last piece of my congratulatory cake from my parents that were waiting for me to devour at my apartment. I saw a figure leaning against the wrought iron fence that caged in the front garden of my apartment complex. I didn’t think much of it, since there were people milling out there all the time. Until the figure became clearer and I froze into place.

It was _him_. Bucky, _my_ Bucky. Leaning against the black iron, his hair had been cut short, but long enough for someone to drag their hands through and get a good grip. He was leaner but he was the same. His arms folded across his broad chest and the same stubble that dusted his strong jaw.

“Hi petal,” he whispered and my entire world came crashing down. The hard knot that had formed in my chest seemed to unravel in a second. But I refused to let myself fall to his feet like a lovesick fool (which I probably would have done if I didn’t have a shred of self-control). I deserved an explanation, I deserved a _fucking_ apology.

“Why?” Was what I managed out.

“I saw your picture in the newspaper,” he murmured and there was a flash of pride in his eyes. “Youngest person in your field with a doctorate. I just…wanted to say congratulations.”

“Congratulations?” I wanted to scream. “That’s all you have to say to me? After all these years, you want to say _congratulations_? That’s _it_?”

“Petal–”

“No, James. You don’t get to _petal_ me. You’ve got some fucking nerve coming back here after all this time. Congratulations? That’s it?” I shook my head and forced the hot, angry tears down my throat. I was so angry I was vibrating. “Is that all you were going to do? Drop by say _oh by the way, congrats on your life! So glad I was there to see it_ and just waltz away again? Is that it?”

“No,” Bucky sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. He fell silent as he seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say as he toed the ground with his boot.

“I’m so mad at you,” I whispered. “I’m so, so mad at you.”

“I know, petal. I know.” He took a step forward and I winced. The pain that twisted his face went straight to my stomach but he didn’t move any closer. “You should be. You should hate me.”

 _But I don’t_. I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch him, I wanted to yell at him and make him regret every second that he left me. But I couldn’t do it. Not with him, right here, _finally_ here. I wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms and forget everything. But I couldn’t do that, not yet.

“Just…tell me why,” I finally forced out. “Was it me? Did I do–”

“No,” his voice was so fierce it shocked me. “God, _no_ , it wasn’t you. Don’t think for a second it was you.” He shook his head as he brushed a shock of hair from his forehead. “I wanted…I was trying to protect you.”

“From _what_?” Bucky shook his head as his eyes begged me to understand. I didn’t. How could I? “Protect me from what? I deserve to know.”

I watched as his throat worked tightly before he fiddled with the buttons on his jacket. After a long stretch of silence, he finally spoke. “It…things were getting, bad. At the tower. Hydra was starting to infiltrate the systems and was getting information… _valuable_ information. And they were threatening everyone, everyone’s families. Clint had to relocate his wife and kids four times because of Hydra.” He chewed his lip for a moment before he glanced at the bushes that peeked through the rails of the fence. “They didn’t know about you. Nobody did. But, if Hydra found out about you…do you know what they would’ve done? My nightmares would’ve become a reality. I couldn’t…I _can’t_ let them do that to you.”

“So you left,” I said bluntly and this time Bucky flinched.

“I put it off for as long as I could,” he whispered. “It was…it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Leaving you. And I couldn’t tell you, you’d want to come with me or you’d beg me to stay and honestly I would’ve. I’d do anything for you. But I had to do this. I had to keep you safe. Charlie, you have to understand. I did this for you.”

I shook my head and I didn’t realize I was crying until Bucky made a soft sound in the back of his throat. He hated when I cried. It was the one thing that made him crack. I wiped furiously at my cheeks and hid my face by looking at the ground beneath me. “It sucked,” I whispered.

“I know, baby, believe me.” Bucky’s breath rattled in his chest. “I wanted to come back, I thought about it every day. But Hydra…they weren't stopping and it took so much longer than anyone thought. But I never stopped thinking about you, I never stopped.”

“You could’ve told me,” I whimpered as I tried to keep the sobs from my throat. “I would’ve understood…we could’ve figured something out.”

“Maybe. I couldn’t take that chance, Charlie. I couldn’t put you in danger. Not now, not ever.”

“What about now?” I asked as I heard a car honk off in the distance. “Is Hydra gone?”

“For now.” Bucky didn’t sound too convinced.

I shook my head as I pulled my hair back and finally met his eyes. They were churning with anguish and an ancient pain that was only just beginning to shine through. “So what do we do now? You come back and we pick up where we left off? Then Hydra comes back and you leave me alone again? I can’t live like that, Bucky. I can’t give you everything and watch you walk away again, I can’t do it.”

Bucky took a step forward, and another, and another until he was right in front of me. “I’m not asking you to do that.” His voice was so soft and sweet and just how I remembered. Some of him had changed, but most of him was the same. “I have…I have an idea but it’s not something we’ll talk about now. I just…I had to see you, Charlie. These four years…it’s been hell without you. I thought I could do it, but I can’t.”

“I was so angry at you,” I murmured as I stared at him. “I thought…I didn’t know what to think. I thought you were dead, and then I thought you left because of me, then I hated you then I hated myself. Then I just got so angry…so fucking angry. And I tried to move on, I tried to forget you but I _can’t_. And I just…I missed you Bucky. I missed you so fucking much and there was nothing I could do about it.”

He reached a hand out and caught a fluttering curl and tucked it behind my ear. A zip of electricity passed over me when his fingers brushed against my skin. His fingertips trailed over the line of my jaw, then my cheek, my lips, my nose and my eyes as if he were re-mapping me. His touch passed over my neck and collarbone before his palm rested against the side of my neck, right where my pulse was.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and his voice cracked. “I’m so sorry, Charlie…you have no idea. You have no idea what I would give to take these last four years away and make them into something good. I never wanted to hurt you. I never knew…I’m sorry, petal. God, I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

“I know.” For years I imagined how this moment would go, how I would yell at Bucky and tell him off. How I would be strong and brave before him. But I realized now that perhaps the bravest I could be was forgiving him. He had punished himself enough, I could see that. I wanted to be angry at him but suddenly it wasn’t worth it.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered. He took another step forward and I couldn’t help but reach my hand out and touch his chest, just over his heart. Just to feel his heart beat and believe he was real. Bucky’s hand covered my own, his left one, covered in a glove.

“How long can you stay?” I asked and Bucky’s breath caught in the back of his throat. It was as if time was suspended and we were delicately treading along, not wanting this moment to be shattered.

“I don’t know.” He brought his head down and pressed his lips into my hair and breathed deeply. “For a little bit, but not long enough.”

I nodded and stepped back to unclip the chain that held the necklace around my neck. I took his left hand in my own and laid the pendant in his palm. “So you have something to remember me by, whenever you have to leave again.”

“Charlie, I can’t–”

“Bucky please,” I stopped him in a soft voice. “It’ll…um it’ll make things maybe a little easier. Just to remind you that there’s a home for you. Wherever you are.”

Bucky nodded as he closed his hand round the pendant. He brought his fist up and kissed his clenched fingers as he brushed his thumb along my jaw. I don’t know what it was, the tenderness of how he touched me or just the whole situation in itself, but a wave of emotion that I had been holding back crashed over me and I lunged at Bucky, throwing myself onto him.

He caught me easily and pressed me so close to him as I felt his muscles contract and pull beneath me. I breathed out a sigh that I had been holding in as I buried my head into his shoulder, breathing in all of him.

“I love you,” he whispered and the last bit of resistance that I had in me melted away as he pressed kisses into my neck. “I love you, I love you, I never stopped loving you.”

I started crying again as Bucky pressed my back against the fence as his hands roamed every inch of me and his lips pressed against my collarbone, neck, face, forehead, everywhere he could reach. “I love you too, Bucky,” I sighed against him and it felt _so_ good to say it. “I love you more than you know.”

He released a strangled sob as he clutched me so close to him I almost couldn’t breathe. “You have no idea…what – dear _God_ Charlie, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

I started laughing. It was so good to laugh again. And even when Bucky kissed me, I couldn’t stop smiling. He laughed too, deep and throaty and when he pulled back his lips were red and glistening and his eyes sparkled again.

“Before we get any further,” I said as Bucky leaned down to kiss my jaw and cheek. “What’s this plan you mentioned? I want to get all the serious stuff out of the way before we start anything.”

Bucky froze and when I leaned back to look at him, he suddenly reminded me of the nervous guy who had asked me out in the dining hall all those years before. “I – um, okay.” He nodded, mostly to himself, and took a deep breath. “I love you, more than anything in my entire life. And you’re it, y’know? You’re all I want and um…I kind of know I can’t really be without you. But the world…s’not getting any better so. I was gonna leave, the Avengers, and all. To be with you. But Tony convinced me to stay but I said I would only if there was some way to protect you. Properly. And he came up with something which I think could work. It’s a long shot but it’s something and I, um–”

“Buck,” I laughed. “Spit it out.”

“Okay, okay. Yeah, totally. Spit it out. Right.” He shook his head before he stared me deep in the eyes and blurted out, “Come live in the tower with me.”

“What?” I gaped at him. “The Avengers Tower…like _the_ Avengers.”

“Yeah, uh, I know it’s a lot. It’s a huge change. And I know you just got this gig with the university, not that I actually _know_ that or looked it up or anything, whatever. Anyways, um, it’s just; it was the only way I’d stay. But if you’re not up for it then I get it, I do. It’s a big change and it’s a lot to ask but–”

“Yes.”

“–we already sort of lived together, well, we _did_ live together, before everything so it won’t be so different but still it’s change and–” his voice suddenly faded as his brain connected with his mouth. “Wait…you said yes.”

“Yes,” I repeated with a smile. “I did.”

“You actually said yes. Just like that.” Bucky stared at me in shock as he slowly processed what I was saying.

“Just like that,” I reiterated. “I’ve wanted to move out for a while. I’ve been trying to find something closer to the university. The Avengers tower is a five minute walk. What have I got to lose? Besides, Bucky, it’s the _Avengers_. Why the hell would I ever say no?”

Bucky blinked. Once. Twice. Then he smiled. His beautiful, brilliant smile that split across his face and he laughed like he did when he didn’t have a care in the world. It was rare when he laughed like that, but I always remembered when he did.

“So, you’re saying yes? We’re doing this?”

I laughed as I threw my arms around his neck and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips that he followed when I pulled away. “Yes, Bucky. I’ll move in with you.”

He kissed me hard, all lips and hot breath as he braided his fingers through my hair and secured me to him. Once I was sufficiently breathless, he pulled away with the brightest sparkle in his eyes. “You’ll love it petal, honest. The place has got a balcony so you can do your studying and grading and look over the city and we’ve got the whole floor to ourselves so we’ve got a living room, kitchen, everything. You can decorate however you want to, I’ll repaint whatever, whatever you want Tony already said the floor is ours so we can change it however we want to.”

I giggled like I was five years old again when Bucky breathed out a sigh and pulled me in close again. He spun me around and I couldn’t even suppress the grin even if I wanted to. “Never thought you’d be so excited about decorating,” I teased once he set me down again.

He looked at me with serious eyes and it knocked the smile off my face. “Charlie…I thought you hated me, I _expected_ you to hate me. To tell me off, to turn me away and never want to see me again. Now, you’re moving in with me. It’s…surreal.”

“Hate you? How could I hate you?” I repeated the same words he said to me at the dining hall and suddenly we were young and stupid and hopelessly in love all over again.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered as he kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and reveled in the warmth of him, a part of me savoring it just in case this was all just some fucked up dream.

“C’mon,” I whispered as I pulled back and threaded my fingers with his. “There’s one more person you have to apologize to.” Bucky’s brows furrowed until he heard an insistent barking from one of the third floor windows. In the second window from the left, my black lab was paws up against the window, practically throwing himself against the glass as his eyes locked on Bucky. Bucky tilted his head back and laughed as he allowed me to tug him into my apartment complex.

And the moment I saw him embrace my dog and talk to him in hushed, apologetic tones for the next half hour, I knew he would stay. And I vowed to myself that I’d never let anything take him away from me.

Not now, not ever.


End file.
